


Trust Fall

by hazelNuts



Series: Prompt Fics [119]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Break Up, Fluff, Getting Back Together, It's summer, M/M, Mild Smut, POV Derek, Scars, and they don't go to the same school, so they're not actually there, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10081031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: anonymous asked: "Hi could you please write a fic where Stiles and Derek have been dating for a few months but Stiles won't let Derek see him naked and Derek gets angry thinking Stiles isn't as in love with him as he is With Stiles. So they have their first huge fight and Derek ends their relationship. It's only later when Stiles turns up at his door Derek realizes that Stiles loves him but he was ashamed of the scars he had from an accident years earlier. Derek shows Stiles just how beautiful he is to him."Derek is sitting on his bed, knees pulled into his chest, a comforting mug of hot chocolate in his hands. Stiles would’ve told him he’s brooding if he were here, which Derek would then vehemently deny. A smile pulls at Derek’s lips, but then he remembers Stiles isn’t here to tell him he’s brooding, might not ever be again. His smile drops and he clutches the mug a little tighter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you think I forgot any tags, please let me know in the comments.

Derek is sitting on his bed, knees pulled into his chest, a comforting mug of hot chocolate in his hands. Stiles would’ve told him he’s brooding if he were here, which Derek would then vehemently deny. A smile pulls at Derek’s lips, but then he remembers Stiles _isn’t_ here to tell him he’s brooding, might not ever be again. His smile drops and he clutches the mug a little tighter.

Well, if he is brooding, at least he’s got the weather brooding with him. There’s a summer storm raging outside, the rain pounding on the glass like a drumline that can’t sync up. There’s no thunder or lightening yet, but Derek feels it buzzing in the air, a ball of energy waiting to be released. Like Stiles when he’s excited about something.

_Fuck._

For years, Stiles was barely on Derek’s radar, saw him only as one of Cora’s dorky friends, and now everything reminds Derek of him. The weather, the colour of his mug, every single TV show, the bags under his eyes, the sweater he’s wearing, the music blasting in his ear through his headphones.

It’s been three days without a word from Stiles­­. Derek’s thought about calling him, but he wouldn’t know what to say, except to repeat what he’s already said.

They’d been making out on his bed, Stiles in Derek’s lap, his hands in Derek’s hair, giggling as he kissed his way across Derek’s stubbly cheek and jaw to his neck. Derek pulled Stiles closer by his hips, his hands slipping under Stiles’ shirt, his fingers grazing the skin just above the waistband of Stiles’ jeans. Stiles froze, his breath stocking in his throat, his lips hovering just below Derek’s ear. Derek immediately pulled his hands away, but Stiles was already retreating. Mentally as well as physically.  It wasn’t the first time Stiles froze during a make-out session. It’s been happening since summer started.

At the beginning of spring semester, Stiles had needed help with an essay, and Cora had given him Derek’s number so Stiles could pick his “nerdy History Major brain”. They’d started talking, first about the essay, then school, and soon they were texting and calling and Skyping daily.

When the school year was drawing to a close, Derek realized he and Stiles would both be going back to Beacon Hills for the summer. He couldn’t figure out why that made him so nervous until, on his second day home, Stiles was at the door, flowers in his hand and a hopeful smile on his face. They’d gone out for milkshakes, which turned into dinner and a movie. Stiles had driven Derek home, but before Derek could get out of the car, Stiles pulled him into a kiss. Derek tried to pull Stiles closer, but Stiles quickly pulled back, giving the excuse that Derek’s family was watching. They were, but Derek had sensed there was something else. He hadn’t pushed. It was only their first kiss, and there would be plenty of time to talk.

But they hadn’t talked. After almost two months Derek still doesn’t know the trigger. What is okay one day could be a no-no the next, and every time he tries to talk to Stiles about it, Stiles shuts down completely or leaves.

Three days ago, Derek had tried again. He’d begged Stiles to give him anything, _say_ anything, even if it was just that he needed more time before he could really talk about it. But Stiles kept pulling away, and Derek started to wonder if _they_ were even something Stiles wanted. Stiles assured him it was, but when Derek asked again if anything was wrong, Stiles stayed silent.

And that was it. Derek couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take feeling like he was the only one willing to be vulnerable in this relationship, and he’d asked Stiles to leave.

Derek hears the pounding of footsteps on the stairs through his music. Cora must’ve cut her trip short after she heard what happened between him Stiles. She’d warned them she would kick their asses if they fucked it up.

Derek shoots up off the bed, almost spilling hot chocolate over himself, when his bedroom door bangs open and Stiles storms in.

Stiles is soaked through from the rain, dripping water on the floor, hair flattened to his head, his clothes clinging to his body. Rivulets of rainwater make their way down Stiles’ face and arms.

‘Stiles,’ Derek breathes out in wonder and relief. Absentmindedly, he sets down his mug and pulls his headphones off. He reaches for Stiles, who is barely an arm’s length away, but Stiles holds up his hands, telling him to stop.

Stiles grabs the collar of his hoodie and t-shirt and pulls them over his head. There’s a bit of a struggle with the wet sleeves, but finally the clothes land on the floor with a soggy _smack_.

Derek swallows. Moles mark a path across Stiles’ chest and abs. Tan lines trace around Stiles’ biceps and shoulders. Derek’s eyes fix on the trail of hair that starts at Stiles’ navel, then disappears into his jeans. He reaches out again, pulled in by the sight before him, but Stiles stumbles back, a soft whine like that of a scared animal escaping from his throat. Stiles’ arm twitches in an aborted attempt to cover himself.

The movement pulls Derek’s gaze to a ragged scar that stretches from the bottom of Stiles’ ribs to his hipbone, and trails off into a point halfway to his navel. Derek moves his eyes back to Stiles’ face, which is pinched with fear and anxiety.

Determined and with his eyes locked on Stiles’, his chest hurting with the need to erase Stiles’ uncertainty, Derek closes the distance between them and folds Stiles into his arms before Stiles has time to stumble out of his reach.

‘You’re freezing,’ Derek mutters. He rubs his hands up and down Stiles’ back.

‘It’s raining,’ Stiles says, melting into the touch. He presses his face in Derek’s shoulder and clutches at Derek’s back, a shiver that Derek doesn’t think is entirely from the cold, runs through him. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that,’ Stiles mumbles.

‘I told you to.’

‘Because I refused to even admit something was wrong.’

‘It’s o—‘

‘No, it’s not okay.’ Stiles pulls back and looks him in the eye. ‘I should’ve talked to you. I should’ve– I should’ve trusted you.’

Derek brushes the wet hair out of Stiles’ face. He doesn’t know what to say. Stiles is smiling at him again, and it’s messing with his brain.

‘I’m going to kiss you, now,’ Stiles says, solving Derek’s problem.

Derek nods and meets Stiles halfway. The kiss starts slow, but it quickly turns dirty and desperate. Derek pours every ounce of how much he’s missed Stiles and his happiness at Stiles being here into the kiss, and Stiles is giving back just as much. Stumbling back from the weight of the kiss, Derek’s legs hit the bed and he falls back, taking Stiles with him. Stiles goes with it, breaking the kiss for only a moment as he positions himself over Derek. He starts tugging on Derek’s clothes, and Derek knows he has to pull back.

‘We don’t have to,’ he gasps.

‘I know,’ Stiles says, moving from Derek’s mouth to his neck.

‘If you need to wait a little longer, that’s fine. You don’t owe me something just because you showed me your scar.’

Stiles sits up with a huff. He rolls his hips, smirking when Derek’s buck up in response.

‘I want this,’ he says. ‘Now. I don’t want to wait. Unless you do?’

Derek shakes his head, laughing when Stiles cheers before pressing their lips together again.

It’s clumsy and messy, and they’re both too eager to make it last long. But it’s good, especially when Stiles is leaning against the headboard, doing his best to clean their hands and stomachs with only a handful of tissues. Derek nuzzles into Stiles’ side, rubbing his stubble against the sensitive skin when Stiles complains that it tickles. He feels warm and content. He wants this moment to last forever.

After a couple minutes Stiles either deems them clean enough or he gives up, because he throws the tissues in the wastebasket, and slides down so he’s lying face to face with Derek. His hair is a mess. It’s still a little damp and sticking up in every direction. Derek messes it up even more, then trails his hand down Stiles neck and arm, until it’s resting on Stiles’ side, covering the scar with his hand.

‘It was an accident,’ Stiles says. He sounds sad, and his eyes are focused on the wall behind Derek. ‘The scar, it… There was a car accident.’

Derek opens his mouth to tell him they can talk about this later, but Stiles shakes his head.

‘It was just after my mom got sick. There was some emergency. I think. I don’t really remember. Her episodes were still pretty far apart, so she figured she could handle the short drive, even though the doctors told her not to. Halfway, she started getting nervous. I tried to tell her to stop, but I couldn’t get through to her. It’s a bit of a blur after that. I don’t remember any pain, but I remember opening my eyes, a tree branch inches from my face. My mom was sitting straight up, her hands clenched at the wheel, staring at nothing.’ Stiles swallows. ‘She didn’t even look at me.’

Derek tangles their legs together, wraps his arm further around Stiles’ waist and turns onto his back, pulling Stiles half on top of him. He has no idea what to say to that. What _can_ he say?

‘I’m okay,’ Stiles assures him, finally looking at him again. ‘I just don’t like remembering her that way. It wasn’t who she was, you know?’

‘Is that why you didn’t want me to see the scar? Because it reminds you of that?’

‘No, that’s because, uhm…’ Stiles looks down again. ‘I dated someone who went out of their way to never touch it.’

‘What?’ Derek asks. His fingers twitch against Stiles’ skin, fury rising in his chest, but he stomps it down.

‘It didn’t last long, but it still messed me up.’ Stiles pokes Derek’s cheek and smiles. ‘I know you’re not like that, but you’re… You know.’ Stiles gestures at Derek’s body. ‘I got insecure. All those maybes and what ifs got into my head, and it only got worse the more I fell in love with you, and it became this huge Thing, and I didn’t want to bother you with it.’

Derek raises his eyebrows. When Stiles rolls his eyes, Derek knows he got the message: Derek wants to be bothered with Stiles’ Things.

‘I love you, too,’ Derek says.

Stiles frowns. ‘Too? Wha–‘ He flushes and bites his lip. ‘Yeah. Love you, big guy.’

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


End file.
